Authors: Warren Fahy
Hender suddenly gestured to Andy and moved to the window of the cockpit.
“He wants some privacy,” Andy translated.
They watched the alien being look out over the sea, where he had so rarely seen the vehicles of human beings passing in the distance.
Nell handed the camera back to Zero.
Geoffrey noticed a World War II signal handbook on the floor beside his foot. It was opened to a page with Morse code. He picked it up, and Nell noticed it.
“Andy,” she asked.
“Yeah?”
“Do you know Morse code?”
“Nope. I was rejected by the Boy Scouts.”
“We don’t have a way to signal the base from here anyway,” Zero reminded them.
Nell took the book from Geoffrey. “Hender must have figured out the word for
distress signal
or
emergency
and matched it to the Morse code for S.O.S.!”
“Wait a minute, are you saying
Hender
signaled us?” Geoffrey exclaimed.
“Impossible,” Thatcher said.
“Hender set off that EPIRB,”
Nell breathed. Her eyes glowed with excitement.
“Jesus,” Zero whispered.
“Oh wow!” Andy said.
“What’s an EPIRB?” Geoffrey asked.
“The emergency beacon that first brought
SeaLife
here,” Nell told him. “The earthquakes might have been worrying him—he may have thought the island was in danger. He could have seen the word ‘emergency’ on the EPIRB in the sailboat that washed ashore and figured out how to turn the beacon on!”
“Yeah, baby!” Zero said.
“‘Help,’ cried the spider to the fly,” Thatcher said.
A shape appeared in one of the dark holes in the fuselage above Nell. She gasped. Another of Hender’s kind peered in warily at the astonished humans. Glowing patterns of blue and green fluctuated on its white-furred body and limbs in the shadow before it emerged into the green-lit chamber.
Thatcher sucked in a breath and took an involuntary step backwards.
Behind the first, another appeared, and then another and another, each with a unique pattern and palette of colors. In their
hands and on their backs they carried bundles, pouches, and packs containing an odd assortment of objects—customized tools, toys or weapons made of native materials, and man-made materials collected from the beach and put to original uses.
The four newcomers hopped gracefully down on their springing legs and approached the humans, creeping on four or even all six limbs, their heads downcast, as if approaching deities.
Hender went to greet them. He gave Andy the same hand signals they had exchanged earlier, and then the others of his kind followed him to the cockpit at the far end of the fuselage.
The beings huddled for a whispered, musical conference.
It was dark now in the nose of the plane. Only a starlit sky silhouetted the alien creatures against the B-29’s cockpit jutting over the ocean. From a distance the new arrivals seemed faintly sinister as they darted glowing eyes back at the humans.
Hender shook some glass jars full of jungle bugs to light up the cockpit. Following Hender’s example, all gave friendly waves at the humans, then went back to their discussion.
Nell’s heart pounded. To be in the presence of Earthlings who may have preceded human beings by millions of years made her feel oddly alien herself. It was an extraordinary sensation. “An intelligent species,” she whispered.
“It sounds like each one is speaking a different language,” Geoffrey whispered.
She nodded. “Maybe that’s why Hender’s so good at languages.”
“They’re a little smarter than you thought, eh, Thatcher?” Andy taunted.
Thatcher showed no expression. “Oh, yes.”
“Why would they have different languages?”
“Maybe they’re very,
very
old,” Nell suggested.
“You’ll have to explain that to me,” Geoffrey said.
“Well, maybe each of them is the last of a separate cultural or ethnic group. Their colorings are fairly distinctive.”
“Maybe,” Geoffrey mused. “But they would have to be incredibly old, Nell, to have that much genetic and cultural variation.”
“Like I said, they
are
incredibly old,” Andy insisted.
Geoffrey considered his own principle of life span as he watched the alien beings silhouetted against the moonlit window of the seventy-year-old aircraft. Suddenly Fire-Breathing Chats seemed remarkably tame compared to this. “It’s possible they don’t really have life spans,” he blurted even as the thought struck him.
“Huh?” Nell asked. “You’ll have to explain that to me.”
“I will.” He nodded.
“The hendros have tunnels that are probably fossilized root structures connecting these giant trees all around the island’s rim,” Andy put in.
“How many trees are there?” Geoffrey asked.
“Six or seven, I think, and they all live alone in separate trees. That multi-colored guy is a painter. The black and blue-striped one seems to invent traps and weapons and other things. The orange one’s a musician. I think the green-and-blue one is a doctor.”
Nell noticed the combinations of colors effervescing on their fur as Andy pointed each of them out. “How do you know what they do, Andy?”
“I went to a dinner party with them at the doctor’s tree. After dinner they traded some stuff. Hender traded some things he collected on the beach.”
“How cool is
that?”
Zero said.
“I think the
hendros
have made up their minds,” Thatcher observed sourly.
The discussion seemed to have been settled and the creatures were now coming back to the humans. Hender approached ahead of the others and spread two arms out. “Henders eat humans now,” he said.
Thatcher stiffened.
Hender held up one finger. “Joke,” Hender said.
“I taught him that word.” Andy laughed. “Don’t panic, Thatcher!”
“Joke, Thatcher.” Hender nodded in agreement.
“He’s got a future on
The Tonight Show,”
Geoffrey said. The other hendros watched the humans laughing and looked at each other in amazement.
Alien as they appeared, Hender’s kindred were each strangely beautiful, with graceful limbs that expressed different styles in motion. Able to locomote with two, four, or six limbs, either swinging from the ceiling or walking on the floor, each of the beings moved in ways disconcertingly different from the others. It was as if five antelope had discovered five completely different ways of walking using the standard four legs. Their fur varied widely, too—not so much like different breeds of cat, more like people wearing different clothes. Watching them, one could only conclude that each had a unique style, and, in this respect, were essentially human. Only humans—juggling, walking, crawling, swimming, skydiving humans—displayed so much individual choice simply through movement.
“See others.” Hender’s woodwind-like voice had a melodious tone. “Thank you thank you thank you. Emergency exit.
Hazar-do-us!”
“Yes, Hender. Hazardous!” Geoffrey nodded. He gestured to himself, then pointed at the door. “When others come, emergency exit. OK? Yes?”
Hender smiled, revealing the three wide teeth that wrapped around his upper and lower jaws. He nodded vigorously. “Yes, hazardous! Emergency exit! Thank you, OK, Geoffrey!”
Hender translated for the four other hendropods, whose eyes flicked back and forth between him and the humans.
Under her breath, Nell told Geoffrey, “You speak pretty good Hender.”
“Hender uses only imperative verbs and simple nouns—probably from associating the words with pictures on directions and warning labels. They’re designed so no one has to be able to read to get the point, but often have a variety of verbal translations.”
“I’ll be damned,” Zero muttered. “And I always hated those things.”
Nell smiled, delighted. “Who would have thought warning labels would be the Rosetta Stone?”
Thatcher had been staring off into space, but he abruptly broke his silence. “I still don’t see how they could evolve here.”
“That’s easy,” Andy piped up. “They disappear.”
Nell looked at Andy, puzzled.
“I think their fur can sense light and somehow reflect it on the opposite side of their bodies. Hey, Hender. Disappear! Don’t worry—he likes doing it. He knows it freaks me out!”
Hender nodded at Andy and smiled as his thick fur fluffed out.
Although they were looking right at him, Hender…vanished. The background seemed to emanate through him, leaving only his grin and two eyes visible.
“Dear God,” Thatcher murmured.
“It’s the freakin’ Cheshire Cat, man!”
All of the hendropods followed suit, blending into the background except for their colorful eyes and smiling teeth.
“Holy shit.” Zero videoed as he laughed.
“That must be how their ancestors managed to slow down long enough to think in this environment,” Nell said, thoughtfully.
“And make tools,” Geoffrey added.
“They can step outside this crazy food chain.”
Geoffrey’s eyes lit up as a piece fell into place. “That’s it! Death by predation is so common here that none of these species needed a biological clock to enforce a life span. When these guys developed invisibility…” He turned toward Nell, excited. “They may have become virtually immortal. Which allowed them to preserve the integrity of their gene pool by minimizing procreation! Intelligent creatures could not reproduce very frequently on such a small island,” he murmured. “In a group this small, the risk of compromising the gene pool would be too great. So the longer each generation lasts the less opportunity for genetic corruption. It’s a scenario that I never imagined before!”
“So Hender’s kind might actually be immortal?” Nell whispered. “My God…”
“There are monkey versions of Hender in the jungle that disappear, too,” Andy said. “Quentin and I called them shrimpanzees. Hender doesn’t like them very much because they steal from his traps.”
“Sounds like a much safer species to rescue, if you ask me,” remarked Thatcher.
“Hey Hender saved all of our lives today, asshole!” Andy retorted. “Shrimpanzees would have had you for lunch. And dinner, maybe.”
“Dozens of people have died on this island in only a few weeks, Dr. Redmond,” Nell said. “We may seem safe right here for the time being, but we wouldn’t last more than a few minutes outside this tree.”
“By the way!” Andy rose and slid his glasses up his nose, raising his eyebrows at the ruddy zoologist. “Just out of curiosity, Thatcher, where the FUCK is our driver?”
“He should have been back by now,” Thatcher snapped back, hotly.
“What have you done with him, Thatcher?”
“What in God’s name are you suggesting?” the older man spluttered.
“I’m starting to wonder about you. I mean, just how far would you go to protect the biosphere from intelligent life, anyway? After all, people are the biggest danger on the planet, right?”
“I resent whatever you are trying to imply,” Thatcher shot back.
“If he doesn’t come back soon, Thatcher, we won’t stand a chance trying to cross this island!” Zero said.
“And even if we stay here, we’ll go out with a big bang.” Geoffrey studied Thatcher thoughtfully.
“Are you absolutely dead nuts positive you got the message across to that kid?” Zero said.
“Or should we start panicking now?” Nell asked.
“What exactly are you accusing me—”
Another quake wrenched the ground, twisting the fuselage around them.
The hendropods reappeared and moved closer to the humans.
“With this kind of seismic activity the military could already be evacuating the island for all we know,” Geoffrey said.
“Maybe the Army doesn’t want the hendropods to get off the island, and they’re just going to leave us behind!”
“He may have had an accident,” Thatcher conceded, realizing it might be true and gambling heavily that it wasn’t.
“Maybe he got ambushed by God-knows-what-out-there,” Geoffrey said.
“OK,” Nell said. “That’s too many maybes, guys. Zero, can your camera zoom in on the base so we can see what’s going on?”
Zero set his camera up on a tripod outside Hender’s door. Switching to night vision, he saw a greenscape with the broken ring of jungle around the bottom of the island lit up like a galaxy. He zoomed in on the Trigon over a mile away and saw helicopters coming and going and Humvees speeding back to the base.
“Hell, it looks like they’re packing it in and getting out of here.”
Zero panned west. He saw that the crack in the far wall of the island had grown. Seawater had swelled the pool that had saved his life to the size of a lake.
“That crack’s opening up. The ocean’s coming in.”
“Shit!” Nell moved aside so Geoffrey could look.
“When water hits old dry fault lines…Bang! Instant earthquake,” Geoffrey peered through the viewfinder. “And every quake will just let more water into the island’s substratum.”
“Terrific,” Zero muttered.
“Do we trust Thatcher?” Geoffrey asked abruptly.
Nell frowned. “The answer lies in the question.”
“I don’t think he has the courage to kill himself along with us,” Geoffrey told her.
“You’re probably right. So he probably told Cane the right thing to say. But Cane might not have done it. And I’m beginning to wonder if, even if he did, we can count on being rescued. I know it’s an awful thing to have to think about, but we have to be realistic. Thatcher might not be the only one who doesn’t like the idea of intelligent life getting off this island. Maybe the news didn’t go down too well with the powers that be. Or maybe Cane just ditched us.”
“I was thinking the same thing. That kid was pretty freaked out,” Zero said.
“And we don’t have any means of communication or transportation,” Geoffrey said.
A swarm of glowing bugs swept over the moonlit purple fields. “Time to go back inside, kids,” Zero warned.
Nell, Geoffrey, and Zero entered the B-29 and closed the door tight behind them.
A tense Thatcher sat surrounded by curious hendropods, who were fondling his red beard and peering into the pockets of his clothing. One discovered a peanut straggler that Thatcher had missed and one of its eyes bent down as it examined it closely— then it grabbed the peanut with its lips and crunched it while registering what seemed to be a smile of pleasure with its wide mouth. Between two arching fingers it offered Thatcher what looked like a miniature dried embryo.